Through the Years
by finnishvixen
Summary: A look at the relationship of Sam and Bailey, set around the time of three Christmases.
1. As in Olden Days

(I don't own Profiler nor its characters.)

**AS IN OLDEN DAYS**

December 22, 1990

Bailey stared into space, lost in thought. He was trying to piece together the behavioural pattern of a serial killer loose in southern Mississippi. Photos, forensic evidence reports and witness statements were displayed all over his desk. He let his mind drift, opting to not force the insight; sometimes this approach worked, other times it was best to depend on shoe leather.

He remained engrossed in his task before a knock on the open door brought him back to the here and now. Sam Anderson, no, Sam Waters, greeted him with a smile. She'd married Tom Waters a month ago, thereby accounting for Bailey's unvoiced slip. She was carrying her baby girl in her arms. They walked into his office and Bailey stood up to meet them halfway.

"Hey, I thought you were already on holiday?" They exchanged a kiss on the cheek. "Hey, sweetie" Bailey said to the little girl.

"Oh, I am. I forgot my Christmas presents for you and a few others at home yesterday, so I decided to come by real quick today." Chloe was gazing at Bailey curiously. The girl had never been one to shy away in front of strangers, but her obvious fascination with all things Bailey took her demeanour to a whole new level.

"You have time to sit down? Do you want me to take something?" Sam had literally her hands full with Chloe and the three bags she had with her.

"I don't have time to stay, I'm sorry. Someone was a little pain when it came to being a good girl in the car. If you could take the bags from my left hand and hold onto the one that's blue. It contains presents to your family." Sam reached out her left hand and waited while Bailey sorted out the bags.

He took away the designated one and walked over to his desk, where a smaller bag than the one he'd been given awaited. He held it aloft with a sheepish expression. "You weren't the only one," he admitted as Sam let out a brief laugh. "Thank heavens it's smaller. I was about to topple over as it was."

Bailey placed the three bags in her out-stretched hand. "Well, we wouldn't want that, especially with such precious cargo." He addressed his words to Chloe and smiled, and the little girl took on a bashful look and hid her eyes under her little fists, smiling in turn.

"I have to go. See you on the 27th?" Sam started backing towards the door, but her progress was stopped by a whine from the toddler. As the whine didn't repeat itself, she continued her retreating steps. Again, the little girl whined, this time accompanied by a wail: "Bail!"

The word registering in Sam's head, she laughed out loud. "Sounds like someone isn't ready to say goodbye to Uncle Bailey."

"Bail!" the toddler babbled again, encouraged by the repetition she'd just heard in her mother's sentence. The man in question approached the pair.

"Bail, huh? Nice and short. I might just have start calling Uncle Bailey Bail, too." She looked at him pleadingly. "I need to go give presents to Karen and Henry. Do you mind watching her? I'll only be ten minutes."

"I'd love to" he reassured her and reached to take Chloe into his arms. The girl started playing with his shiny tie clip.

"Thanks. I'll be right back" she said, heading out the door. Left alone with her daughter, Bailey sat down on a chair by the wall, not wanting to sit by the desk and expose the little girl to the contents of the case file. He detached the tie clip and let Chloe play with it. She watched it sparkle when the light hit it the right way. She turned it in her hands and chanced a glance at him every now and then.

She was perfectly content to spend ten minutes sitting in his lap and inspecting the shiny object. Bailey watched the little girl, ready to grab the tie clip if it ended up precariously near the girl's eyes or nose. She was well-behaved, and Bailey's thoughts turned to his own daughters. They too had once been this little, this young, this content to sit in their father's lap.

Those days seemed like a lifetime ago. Frances and Arianna were now ten and six years old. Old enough to be aware of the strain in their parents' marriage. He and Janet had separated briefly two years ago, but they'd reconnected before four months had passed. Now, they'd hit another rocky patch. Hopefully the girls would be able to enjoy the holidays.

Sam bustled in again with Bailey deep in thought. "Everything okay? You seem kind of out of it today," she remarked to her friend. Her question had him standing up. "Everything's fine. Just a lot on my mind."

"Oh. If you want to talk..." He acknowledged the offer with a nod. "I hope she wasn't too much trouble?" Shaking his head, he pressed a soft kiss on the toddler's cheek and said: "No, she was a delight."

"Delight, you say? Why do you always put your best foot forward with Uncle Bailey, sorry, Bail?" she asked from the girl, who looked puzzled at the words. "Choosing to remain silent, I see. Shades of your Grandpa Charles." Sam gathered the bags and looked at her mentor. "Walk us to the car?"

"Of course." Bailey carried Chloe to the parking lot, to her immense delight lifting her up and down all the way there. After Sam had buckled Chloe in the safety seat, she hugged her friend goodbye. "Give my love to Janet and the girls."

"I will. Say hi to Tom for me. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Bail. You know, I kinda like calling you that." She grinned and climbed into the car. Bailey waved goodbye to Chloe on the back seat and then started towards the Quantico office building. He'd reached the door when Sam drove past him, giving him a little wave and pulling into the mid-morning traffic.


	2. Faithful Friends

**FAITHFUL FRIENDS**

December 21, 1993

Sam was sitting in her car, taking in the sight in front of her. Bailey Malone living in a house with a picket fence? She would never have pegged him for an owner of such a house. She relished the feeling of amusement and surprise, a welcome respite from the gloom and desperation of the past six months. This would be their first Christmas without Tom, the father of her child. No, she couldn't think of that now. She had to keep it together now.

Trying to cast over her gloomy thoughts, she sighed and climbed out of the car. She left her present inside the car and walked to stand on the pavement. She fished a cigarette pack from her coat pockets, shook out a cigarette and lit it. A bad habit she'd lapsed into again in the months since the end of July. She'd stopped smoking when she'd found out about her pregnancy, but the guilt and grief had driven her to seek some release of her nerves. Cigarettes were the healthier, saner option to do that.

She looked at Bailey's yard beyond the bounds of the fence, not wanting to step onto the property without the owner. She knew Bailey wouldn't mind one way or the other, but she was loath to trespass. In the back of her mind, she knew the real reason she didn't want to put a foot on the property. It was the same reason why she'd been torn about seeing the man himself. She'd missed his company in the past months, but she was worried that upon seeing him and witnessing his feelings of guilt coupled with his concern for her, she would lose the last vestiges of strength she possessed and crumple to the floor in one sobbing heap.

She caught Bailey's car approaching and stubbed her cigarette on the pavement, moving to get her gift out of the car and lock the vehicle. She watched nervously as Bailey pulled into the driveway and killed the engine. He reached for his suitcase on the passenger's seat, then climbed out of the car. She could see instantly that he'd lost some weight; otherwise, the calming effect of his familiar, comforting presence from even fifteen feet away quelled any doubts still lingering in her mind. She was happy to see him again, and knew she would leave tonight stronger after their reunion.

Bailey walked toward Sam and took in her appearance. She looked as beautiful as ever, wearing a muted brown trench and dark jeans with boots. Her hair was in a loose ponytail, tendrils falling out. She looked beautiful as well as haunted – she was in a prison partly of her own making. At times, he wondered how she would react if he called her on her self-imposed exile, reminding her that withdrawing from the world might soothe her and Chloe for a while, but it could end up strangling both of them in the long run. But he already felt like he'd been the one who had dragged her down. He wouldn't let her down this time. Maybe she'd get what she wanted this time around.

She offered him a small smile as he kept walking closer. They hugged each other tightly, without hesitation. He smelled of cigars, Old spice (she didn't think he'd ever change the cologne of his choice) and just... Bailey. She was the one to break the embrace. She let her hands loosen, pulled away slightly and greeted him: "Hey Malone". Now that he was up close, he afforded himself one evaluating look at her. "Hey. How are you?"

"Getting by, I suppose. The trick is to keep breathing, right?" she shrugged, choosing not to dwell on her tragedy there, in front of his new house. "You gonna show me your new place?"

* * *

"Aren't you going to Baltimore for the holidays?" Sam queried, incredulous. She knew that Bailey and Janet had had an acrimonious divorce, but that was a year ago and Bailey had seen his daughters on special occasions since then.

"No. Janet didn't take it too kindly when I had to cancel on the girls a month ago. She said Frannie and Arianna shouldn't have to put up with another no-show on my part. She informed me that my presence wouldn't be required" he finished with a tinge of sadness and dejection in his voice.

Sam nearly began a tirade against his former wife and her misguided presumptions of Bailey's priorities, but she kept herself in check. While they had always been cordial in their interactions, a real friendship had never blossomed between the two women. For her part, Sam had always been of the opinion that Janet didn't appreciate or even realise how important Bailey's job was to him, how it informed his character. She knew that Bailey would be different without it.

"Well, then you'll just have to come to the farm for the holidays. You know Chloe would love to see you." Bailey shot Sam a half quizzical, half rueful look.

"You realise I don't know where you're living, right?"

"What do you mean?"

He shifted uncomfortably, straightening his vest. "Meaning I don't know where the farm is."

"Angel didn't give the address to you at the funeral?"

Bailey shook his head, then hesitated for a moment. He hadn't exactly wanted to share this with Sam. "Angel and I... We had a disagreement at the funeral."

Sam looked stunned. "I had no idea." He smiled ruefully, and Sam tried to recall the day of Tom's funeral and how it had progressed. She hadn't seen any moments of outright discord. Even Tom's parents had managed to keep their grief and hidden resentment in check. "What kind of disagreement?"

"Let's not get into that," Bailey attempted to divert the course of the discussion. Sam realised that the disagreement had been less a disagreement and more Angel venting her grief and anger at Bailey.

Like everyone else, her best friend from childhood had been hit hard by Jack's invasion of their lives and Tom's death. Sam and Angel had already had a few talks about Jack and how Angel thought the risks to Sam's privacy could have been minimised better. In short, she felt that Sam's identity should have been hidden right from the start.

And now Angel had made Bailey feel unwelcome in Sam and Chloe's lives. Otherwise, he would have visited them in the months since the funeral. She knew he had the means to find out the address of the farm in two minutes. Sam was both irritated and touched that he hadn't done so.

Well, Angel and Sam would have some words when she returned home from Atlanta.

Having made up her mind, she straightened her back and asked pointedly for a paper and a pen. She scribbled down the address, then handed it to Bailey. "We expect to see you at one pm on Christmas Day. No arguments, no excuses. Okay?"

He took hold of the piece of paper, glancing at it briefly. She jabbed him a little with the pen to coax an agreement out of him. He relented to her request. He hadn't been looking forward to spending Christmas alone.

Sam put on a collection of festive arias, and they spent an hour catching up before Sam needed to leave. She wanted to spend some time with her daughter before her bedtime. Per their new arrangement, they didn't exchange their presents after all, choosing to do so on Christmas day.

On the day itself, Bailey was detained. A serial killer plaguing Virginia killed a new victim on Christmas Eve, and his consult was needed. So, he placed two phone calls to extend his wishes for the season's greetings to both sets of women and girls irrevocably in his life.


	3. If the Fates Allow

(As promised, this chapter takes a look at the Christmas Sam and Bailey shared in my previous fic, "Play Dead". It helps if you've read that story before this chapter. In case you haven't, what you need to know is simple: Jack kidnapped Sam per the events in "Las Brisas" and held her captive for six days before she orchestrated her own rescue. Sam and Bail have been together ever since.)

**IF THE FATES ALLOW**

Christmas Day, 1999

Sam smiled at the sight that greeted her as she emerged from the kitchen and made her way into the den. Chloe, Angel and Bailey were clearly conspiring together. They had been speaking in hushed voices until she entered the room, and were now exchanging secretive glances. In addition, Chloe was brimming with barely contained glee. Sam was glad to see her daughter enjoying herself so wholeheartedly. The six months they'd spent in family therapy had repaired their relationship nearly to the state it had been before her abduction.

She set down the tray which held the warm ciders for the adults and the warm hot chocolate for the child. "What's going on?" she asked, drawing out the end to convey her slight apprehension of whatever the trio had planned.

"Nothing!" Chloe was quick to allay her mother's fears, which only served to confirm Sam's suspicions that her baby girl was behind the plot. Angel and Bailey did their best to look appropriately innocuous as they both sipped their ciders. "Perhaps we should move to the living room?" Bailey suggested, and Angel and Chloe readily agreed. "After all, that's where the Christimas tree is," Chloe reasoned out loud as she led the way, trying to prevent the cocoa from spilling in her rush. Sam looked on as Bail and Angel filed by her, following Chloe in quick succession. Resigning herself to whatever lay in store, Sam sighed and followed her family to the living room.

What lay in store was a choreographed recital of "You're a Mean One Mr Grinch". Sam had mentioned that the song had been her favourite in her childhood, so the trio had planned a whole choreography for the song, complete with props. Bailey played Mr Grinch, Angel was his trusty dog Max, and Chloe sang most of the song, with the adults chiming in when she forgot the words in her excitement. Sam laughed until she was doubled over, especially when Bailey mimicked going up the chimney or chased Angel around while holding a horn made of tissue paper rolls in his hands.

* * *

"Damn, I forgot something!" Sam pulled away from Bailey. They had been dancing quietly, enjoying one another's proximity and discussing the events of the day. He refused to relinquish his hold on her and grumbled: "Is it something that needs attending right now?" She batted her eyelashes at him. "Well, it's a gift to you, but on second thought, I'm not sure you deserve another present. Your performance as the Grinch was so convincing that I'm sure you belong on the naughty list for the rest of the year, at the very least."

"Me, naughty? Let me assuage your doubts."

Sam pulled back from a rather mind-blowing kiss, clearing her throat before speaking. "Mm. 'Giddy up', more like it. I think nice girls would call that kiss decidedly naughty." He growled a little and she laughed. She made him walk backwards, then pushed him down to sit on the sofa. "Good thing I'm not a nice girl. Stay here. I'll be right back." She sauntered out, her hips swaying to the music. She knew Bailey was watching her, so she turned in the door way and blew a little kiss his way. He made a show of reaching up to catch the kiss, somehow missing it and slumping down in defeat. She giggled her way to their bedroom. She rummaged through the closet, which was a mess. Chloe had clearly been there, looking for props for the Grinch performance. Finally, she found what she was looking for and hurried to join Bail downstairs.

He was reclining on the sofa, listening to music and counting his blessings. He mused, not for the first time, the events of the past year and the turn in his relationship with Sam. The first four months had been taxing on both of them. She had been sorting out her feelings about the abduction and all those years she'd lived in terror, and in the process had first tried to push him away for fear of hurting him and had then clung onto him for dear life, as she allowed herself to open up the well of the desperation and helplessness she'd felt for nearly a decade and plummeted into an emotional tailspin.

She had shielded Chloe from this, but with him, there had been no walls. He'd seen every crack, had experienced every tumble and had witnessed every nightmare. In the past month or so, she'd begun to emerge as herself, in some ways resembling the woman she'd been before all of this had happened. She seemed more carefree, laughed more freely and bestowed displays of affection without hesitation. She had opened up, ready once again to live her life forward.

And there she was, the object of his musings and the woman of his dreams. She was holding a wrapped gift in her proffered hand. He took it and she sat down beside him, clearly expectant. He tore the wrap paper and inspected the present. It was a photo album. Had she given him an empty album? Somewhat puzzled, he glanced at Sam and surmised from her demeanour that there was more to the gift. He opened it and was greeted with her distinctive hand writing:

_**Bailey Ryan Malone, **_

_**my faithful friend;**_

_**through the years.**_

_The fates were kind _

_when they sent you my way. _

_Love, Sam._

"Sam..." he whispered, touched by her dedication. She gestured for him to leaf through the album. It was full of photos she'd taken in the years of their acquaintance. Pictures from Quantico, shared family picnics, 'Bring your daughter to work' days, FBI family retreats and work parties. There were photos of his daughters, even some with Janet, pictures with the members of the VCTF, of him and the Waters women.

Some photos were recent. She'd picked up her camera once again, using it as a way to re-establish her connection to the world. But instead of landscapes, she now focused on people, or more to the point, people she loved. She'd been snapping photos of Chloe and Bailey constantly, and she'd included some in the album. It wasn't full; about half of the pages didn't have photos adorning them. When he reached the end of the photos, she explained "You can finish it yourself."

He drew her closer for a soft kiss. "Thank you. It's perfect." She smiled happily.

"One thing, though." He affected an admonishing tone in jest, and her smile faltered a bit. "Next year, I want a photo album entitled 'Samantha Elizabeth Waters, Chloe Aimee Waters and Bailey Ryan Malone'."

"I think that can be arranged," she murmured before whispering in his ear "Merry Christmas, Mr Grinch."

_THE END_


End file.
